


The Final Night

by SnipSnapSnape



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But I like it so I'm posting it, M/M, Suicide, hella sad, well not really I'm pretty crap at this writing thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnipSnapSnape/pseuds/SnipSnapSnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire doesn't die, Enjolras does, now it's a year later and everything is sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Night

In the dark of early morning Grantaire sat at his writing desk and wrote, feeling nothing but sorrow. “Enjolras,” he started, reading out the words as if it were a prayer, as his pen scratched the parchment. “It’s already been a year since you were killed in the wine shop..” Grantaire takes a deep breath and grabs a half empty wine bottle from the floor, taking a long drink before setting the bottle on his desk and picking up the pen once more. “I wish I had done something. I’m sorry I just sat there in the shadows. Forgive me, I’m just a coward, nothing more.” He pauses and rubs at his eyes, the cool breeze seeping in through his thin curtains. It had been months since he had been in his room for anything other than sleep, his days and nights being spent in the local pub or sleeping on some street corner. “Enjolras, what would you have done?” His voice began to tremble and slur as he had spent the night much like all other nights after the barricade fell and he remained alive. “If I had stood up from behind the billiard table and called out to the guards, called out to you…” He stopped reading aloud completely, finding it too hard to speak around the lump in his throat. “I would have died alongside you, I should have. Would you have permitted it? Enjolras, I would have followed you into the afterlife, I would have stayed by your side until the very end. So why didn’t I? Why did I stay there while you were put to rest eternally? Why did I let you die alone? As proud as you were to die for the sake of the revolution. Enjolras, my death will be one of a coward but I wish that in the afterlife you will allow me to stay at your side. That you will take me back.” Grantaire took another drink from the bottle at his side, swirling the last bits of it around in the bottle and staring at it with empty eyes. “I love you, Enjolras” he said aloud, speaking unintelligently in his drunkenness, his eyes burning, and the threat of tears growing with every passing second. Those words never making it onto the parchment. Grantaire stood and staggered over to the window, bottle in hand. With his free hand he moved aside the curtain and pushed the window fully open, leaning out to look at the pavement road five floors below him. “Don’t start any revolutions without me.” He says with a laugh, looking up at the still visible stars as tears fell slowly down his face. “Enjolras…”   
With a thud Grantaire’s body hit the pavement, blood pooling around his dark curls.


End file.
